


into these hands you press leather

by deniigiq



Series: finding the lost and losing the found [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Complicated Relationships, Diplomacy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luke is traumatized but hes still a brat and an asshole, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Politics, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, Trauma, but still, dont think hes letting din forget, oh and there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: “You Mando-proposed to me in front of a raging hoard,” Luke snapped. “What part of thisisn’ta bit in a comedy of errors?”“I don’t know what that means. I am being serious," Din said.“Obviously you don’t, I forgot who I was talking to."(The fallout from the Mandalorian incident is a little bumpier than Din would have hoped.)
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Series: finding the lost and losing the found [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090520
Comments: 82
Kudos: 837





	into these hands you press leather

**Author's Note:**

> I have been VIBRATING SO HARD about posting this chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Luke needed a drink. Four drinks. _Six_ drinks. He needed six drinks.

“I’m sorry,” Din said. “I should have intervened sooner.”

Hmmmmmmmm. Nope. Luke wasn’t processing human language until Drink Three, thanks. Shut up. Go away.

“Skywalker,” Din said, “Please.”

“Stop following me,” Luke snapped over his shoulder shakily. “I’ve had enough of your kind for today.”

Din stopped right where he was on the other side of the backdoor to the shelter. His hands went down at his sides.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll leave you.”

The drinks were supposed to help. They were _supposed to help._ But here Luke was, sitting on his bed, still besieged with shivers. Every time he closed his eyes for so much as a blink, he saw nothing but a suffocating sea of helmets, towering and towering and getting closer and closer.

He shuddered hard and slid off his bed, searching for his cloak. It was on the back of the door. The staff said the kids had taken it down and hidden beneath it when he didn’t come back right away. The thought stopped his hands when he started to take it down.

He left it where it was.

Din’s ship was where it usually was the next morning when Luke gathered the courage to set foot outside the shelter again. He wasn’t sure where the kids were, he’d woken up and found the place all but empty.

One of the staff said that one of the others had taken them out to a nearby village, but Luke’s brain was mixed up and swirling and he’d just accepted that without hearing which village it was or what they were doing there.

All that he could focus on now was the ship.

Grogu almost positively hadn’t gone with the others. Certainly he was with Din on that ship.

Luke went to take a bath.

He wasn’t sure what happened in the hours between the bath and mechanically smiling at all the students when they burst through the door that night and swarmed him for hugs and clinging. All he knew was that within an hour of their going down to sleep, there was a soft knock at his door.

His heart seized at the thought of a helmet on the other side, but then of all people’s, Leia’s voice said ‘Yoo-hoo?’ through the wood.

He couldn’t get up fast enough.

Everything felt safe again crammed into Leia and Han like this. He never wanted to let go, but he had to because he needed to wipe at his face before Leia started in with the insults.

Han’s hands didn’t leave his back, though. They rubbed harder circles than was strictly necessary.

“What a shit-show,” Leia sighed. “We thought you guys were goners.”

Yeah, Luke had, too.

“How did you know to come?” he rasped.

Han winced and set about finding something safe and non-alcoholic to drink. Leia smoothed out Luke’s bedcovers and lowered herself onto them. She shrugged.

“Just a feeling,” she said.

Luke rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me,” he said.

Han arrived back with a cup which he bullied into Luke’s hand before going to join his wife on the bed. Luke sunk down onto the chair he’d claimed for his desk.

“The Bastard, Greatest,” Leia said lightly.

Boba Fett??

“He’s very protective of the Mand’alor,” Leia hummed. “Seems like he likes having one that trusts him for once.”

Huh. Well, Luke couldn’t begrudge him that.

“Although I’m not sure that he quite knew what he was condoning when he sent your boy flying back this way,” Leia hummed, kicking her toes daintily.

Luke blinked. It hurt. He resolved to never do it again.

“Come _on_ , Luke, don’t tell me you don’t know?” Leia blurted out while Han started trying to change the subject over her.

“Know what?” Luke asked. “I never know anything, we’ve established this.”

Han started musing on the weather. Leia’s lips started to widen.

“You’re sure right,” she said.

Han lamented the fact that holes formed in cheese.

“Sorry,” Leia said through his nattering, “It seems that we’re ignoring the fact that the Mand’alor himself kissed you in front of everyone who’s anyone on this planet. We’re not mentioning that _at all_ , are we, Han?”

Luke felt like his skull had caved in or something. Everything went black for a second there. Could Leia repeat that?

“Kissed you,” Leia said. “Mando kissed you. And told everyone that he intended to--”

Ah. Yeah, Luke saw where she was getting confused now. But no, as nice a thought as that was. Din hadn’t kissed Luke. Luke would definitely remember any and all kissing that had happened because he would have fixated on that instead of the helmet horror show his mind currently kept playing over and over for him.

“Luke.”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Luke said. “Like, we all got out of it okay. Nothing happened, no one died—”

“Luke.”

“—And now, it’s really worked out for the best or something—”

“Luke,” Leia said. “Come here. Sit with me.”

He went automatically. Leia took his hand.

“That helmet touch thing? That’s how Mandalorians kiss,” she said.

No, it wasn’t. Anyways, wasn’t it time for them to be leaving?

“Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Luke said. “I’m just—I don’t—why would he do that? He’s told me before that he doesn’t—that he doesn’t feel that way. For me. So why would he do it? I don’t understand. I just don’t—”

“Things change,” Leia said. “And maybe he doesn’t feel that way. But he did what he had to, to protect you and the kiddos. Isn’t that what you wanted from him? Isn’t that what Yoda told you to ally with him for?”

Luke pulled his feet up onto the bed and hugged his knees, trying to think.

“Yes,” he said at length. “That’s what I wanted.”

“Then congrats,” Leia said, slapping his leg. “Mission accomplished.”

That was easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one having nightmares of dead children strewn about the shelter.

“Have you spoken since?” Leia asked.

“No,” Luke said.

“Go talk.”

“Make me.”

“Fine, if you don’t, I will,” Leia said. “And I will accept his great and generous proposal on your behalf.”

“So go,” Luke told her, burying his face into his knees.

He didn’t look back up, because if he did, he knew he would see Han and Leia being concerned at each other with their eyes and he couldn’t deal with that right now. Maybe it was childish, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Everything was so much. Too much. And thinking about any Mandalorian wasn’t going to make it any better.

Leia and Han left after Luke said he wanted to try to get some sleep. He did try, too. But sleep wouldn’t come. After an hour of tossing and turning, he shoved himself up and went to stare out the window. The Rust Bucket still hadn’t left. Luke hadn’t seen Grogu with the other little ones that evening.

He went to grab his cloak and then stopped with his hand hovering over the black fabric again.

He took the green one.

The Rust Bucket’s ramp wasn’t down, which was more of a relief than it had any right to be. Luke instead went and settled in at the base of one of its feet. He closed his eyes. Somehow, out here in the dirt, away from the shelter, he felt like he could actually breathe.

There was no surging sea of helmets in the darkness behind his eyes. There were no mangled bodies.

It was only dark. When he opened his eyes, too, it was dark, but not pitch. Hazy and a little misty and cold.

He leaned his head against the Rust Bucket’s metal foot.

He woke up.

He woke up and startled at the fact that he was indoors, in a room that was not his own. It was claustrophobic. The walls were inches from his face and, even though they were off-white and scratched, their proximity snatched the air from his lungs and fed him a flash of those helmets again.

The flash was only that, though, because a squeak broke his attention.

He pushed himself up and found that the heaviness covering him was his green cloak with some kind of brightly-colored, woven blanket tossed on top of it. The blanket had a stringy fringe. He frowned at it getting caught between his fingers.

“Hey, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah—no. Don’t touch that.”

He looked back and found a curtain hanging in the direction his feet were pointed.

“ _Grogu_. Give it to me. Where are you going? Are you running away?”

That was Din.

His steps were coming closer. Luke started to untangle himself from the blankets only for Din’s steps to stop with a quiet, “Gotcha.”

Grogu whined sadly.

“Let him sleep,” Din said.

His steps started to move away from Luke and Luke was slapped with the reality that he was laying in Din’s bed. This was Din’s blanket.

It even smelled like him…

WEIRD ALERT. WEIRD ALERT.

Luke scrambled out of the cramped quarters and nearly fell out into the main cabin. He landed on his feet.

His feet? Where were his boots?

A screech of delight drew his attention up and he found Grogu stretching hands towards him over Din’s shoulder. Din himself had half-turned around in alarm.

“You’re awake,” he said.

Luke felt every single one of his toes acutely.

“My boots,” he said. “Where did you put them?”

Grogu wriggled around and starting shoving at Din’s helmet. Din ignored him.

“They’re by the door,” he said, pointing.

Right.

Luke went hunting. He pointedly ignored both Din and the awkward silence for as long as it took for Din to break it.

“You seemed tired,” he said.

“I’m always tired,” Luke said. He found the boots. They were set perfectly aligned to the right of the ramp. He grabbed them and sat down to start yanking them on, socks be damned.

“Are you alright, Skywalker?”

The question caught Luke off-guard.

“That must have been traumatic, even for an experienced fighter like yourself,” Din said. “There were a lot of them.”

Luke swallowed.

“It was fine,” he said. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

“I was impressed.”

Luke tightened the final lace.

“I do aim to please, Great Mand’alor,” he said, standing up. “Thank you for the hospitality. I’ll be taking my leave.”

Grogu stopped scrabbling against Din’s helmet and whimpered.

“I’ll see you shortly, Grogu,” Luke told him.

He headed down the now-lowered ramp.

The Rust Bucket stubbornly remained where it was. It had been three days now, and Luke was getting aggravated looking at it.

He was even more aggravated at the fact that two whole times, he’d gone out to sit at its foot in the middle of the night, and two whole times, he’d woken up inside it, all nestled in Din’s sleeping nook with that blanket that smelled like him.

It made Luke’s jaw ache.

He needed the Bucket to leave, and yet, stubbornly, it did not.

He asked one of the staff about it, and she said that she thought that the Mand’alor was making a statement to others who thought that they might come by and try their luck like the ones before.

Luke ground his teeth and thanked her for her opinion. Then he stomped out to the Bucket and banged on the side until Din came out to meet him. He cocked his helmet, staring over the edge of the ramp down to the foot that Luke had parked himself by.

“Why are you still here?” Luke asked furiously as they walked in the direction of one of the nearby villages.

“Ship’s falling to bits,” Din said. “I’m doing repairs.”

Luke glared at the clods of sand at their feet.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“You lied when you said you needed help carrying provisions back,” Din pointed out.

“You’re _lying_ ,” Luke reiterated since apparently that beskar helmet was truly impenetrable. “Why are you really staying?”

Din turned his helmet away for several steps. Luke fought the urge to stomp on the toes of his boots every time they came into his field of vision.

“It’s important to rest,” Din said. “If you aren’t sleeping, then who will protect the children?”

Who indeed. How was that Din’s problem?

“Skywalker.”

Luke kept walking. Din could stop, he didn’t care. He wasn’t wrong when he said that Luke really didn’t need him to help carry the provisions back.

“ _Luke_.”

Luke felt his back muscles loosen with defeat.

“I should have told you before what I was planning.”

Yeah, pal. You fucking should have.

“It was inconsiderate.”

Yes, yes, go on.

“I—that’s all I have to say.”

“Great,” Luke snapped, whirling around, “Because here’s what I have to say: you don’t have to sit around and pity me. Us. The Jedi. We are warriors, too, Din. We know the risks that we take. I accept the consequences of my actions. You didn’t need to show up and just—just—”

“You wanted me to let you die?” Din asked.

“No. Of course not,” Luke snapped. “But I don’t need you to be this protector for _me_. If you’re going to do it, then do it for the school. Go to the children first and leave me to handle things at the front. I don’t want—”

“To be in my debt,” Din finished.

Luke had nothing to say to that. He turned around and went back to kicking mutinously at every hunk of dirt that hadn’t the decency to break apart like the rest of the trail.

“You aren’t in my debt, Skywalker,” Din said at his back.

“Save it for someone who cares,” Luke said.

He heard Din grumble to himself, and it was like someone had just put a blowtorch to his blood.

“What did you just say to me?” he hissed.

Din looked away innocently. The asshole. Luke strutted back and glared up in to that stupid visor.

“Say it to my face,” Luke said.

Din deigned to lower his helmet to meet Luke’s eyes.

“I _said,_ ‘this sure is a lot of fuss over a kiss,’” Din repeated.

Luke felt his last nerve snap right in half.

“YOU CAN’T JUST GO AROUND KISSING PEOPLE, DIN DJARIN,” He exploded. “Now all these fuckin’ Mandalorians think I’m some kinda kept pet of yours. This is not! The! Way!”

“It’s a little bit the Way,” Din said sheepishly.

Luke slammed his knuckles into his shoulder and came away with a smarting hand. He swapped fists and went right back to hammering only to realized three beats in that Din was laughing at him.

Literally, actually, laughing.

Luke punched him harder until gloved hands immobilized his wrists. He went for a headbutt and regretted it immediately.

And that menace was _still_ laughing at him.

“I am a Jedi knight,” Luke roared once he was done mourning the pain in his head. “I could kill you right here, right now, you bumbling milk can. I am the son of Darth Vader, Din. You have _no_ idea what I’m capable of. You have no idea what you’re messing with.”

“Yeah, Fett told me,” Din interrupted. “It turns out you’re kind of a big deal.”

An ounce of Luke’s fury left him and he flailed to get it back before it burned away in the sunlight.

“I am; thanks for finally noticing,” he snipped. “Which is why—”

“Which is why I knew what would stop the others in their tracks,” Din said.

Luke’s brain crashed to a halt. His breath caught.

“What?” he asked.

Din huffed and took a step away from his fists.

“You’re _the_ Jedi knight, it turns out. The one who everyone who is anyone knows,” Din said. “Me on the other hand? I’m a nobody. They wouldn’t listen to me. They wouldn’t believe me to be their leader. So I thought, what is something that no Mandalorian has ever done—something so shocking that it would leave no option for people besides to accept that this nobody was a somebody and could be _the_ somebody for our people.”

Luke blinked.

“And that was laying a fat one on a Jedi knight?” he asked.

“You get the Darksaber, you tame a Jedi--what else could a Mandalorian dream of?” Din asked.

Luke narrowed his eyes.

“Money,” he said.

“The point is that _you_ need to preserve the way of the Jedi, and _I_ need to preserve the Way of the Mandalorian,” Din said, “We can make that happen at once if others believe that we are a clan.”

That they were a what?

“A clan,” Din said.

Yeah, see, repeating the question didn’t clarity jack shit, Mando.

“Clan. Family,” Din said. “This is our Creed. We protect other Mandalorians without question. We protect our clan without question. Yes, you’re a Jedi, but if you are clan, then it’s my responsibility to protect you. And if it’s my responsibility, then as Mand’alor, it will be the others’, too.”

Politics? That kiss had been for politics??

“Yes,” Din said.

“So they think I’m going to be your wife now?” Luke asked.

Din recoiled in disgust.

“You—that’s very simplistic,” he said.

Shut up. Luke was a trophy Mando-wife. This was what his life had come to. Yoda. _Yoda_. Make it stop. Wake Luke up. This was a terrible nightmare. He wouldn’t play tricks anymore; let’s just start all over.

“If it offends you this much, then nothing needs to come of it. I just thought—” Din started.

“You thought wrong,” Luke snapped. “You always think wrong—”

“—that you would understand—”

“—and where does this leave me with my people, Din? Clearly you didn’t even think about that--”

“—given that you were preparing to die for my son back there.”

Luke lost all the air in his chest.

“I thought,” Din continued through his silence, “That we already behave like clan. You’re already always shouting at me and touching me and herding and teaching Grogu. I thought that this would change nothing. But I see now that it upsets you to a great degree. So if it is so distressing, then I can send out a message which rescinds my declaration to the others. The last thing I want, Luke Skywalker, is for you to feel afraid of me or another.”

Din wasn’t supposed to say that. He wasn’t allowed to say that.

“It’s my job to protect my people,” Luke tried to make him understand.

“And it’s my job to protect mine,” Din countered. “We are the same. We are coming from the same place. We want the same thing. And it’s not just me who has ‘tamed’ you, Luke. You can tell your people the same. You can tell them that you tricked me or that you domesticated me or whatever you need to for them to understand where my loyalties lie. I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me. The only Mandalorians who’s opinion of me matters are gone. What is important is that the children are safe. Grogu is safe. That is the last promise that I made to them. That is my number one priority.”

Luke found that his eyes were swimming. He couldn’t get in or let out a full breath. The back of his throat was screaming.

“This is what my Master wants for us,” he admitted.

Din dipped his head low. Luke scrubbed at his face and swore. Din stayed right where he was. Luke looked back at him and giggled hysterically.

“This is the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” he pointed out.

Din stiffened.

“Yes,” he acknowledged.

Luke cackled.

“Are you still upset?” Din asked him. “How do you wish to proceed?”

“I have no idea,” Luke said. “This is all so sudden.”

Din’s helmet seemed to frown.

“You’re making fun now,” he said.

“You Mando-proposed to me in front of a raging hoard,” Luke snapped. “What part of this isn’t a bit in a comedy of errors?”

“I don’t know what that means. I am being serious.”

“Obviously you don’t, I forgot who I was talking to.”

“How do you wish to proceed?”

“Listen, Buckethead,” Luke said, “You don’t get to go all droid-voice on me now that you’ve showed your hand, alright? Talk to me like a person again and you’ll get an answer.”

Din was glaring now. Luke didn’t feel bad about it.

“Ask again,” he maintained.

“How do you w—,” Din cut himself off. He breathed out slowly. “Luke,” he said firmly, “Would you like to be clan with us?”

“With who specifically?” Luke asked.

“With me,” Din said.

“With you? I don’t know about that. But Grogu? Absolutely—clearly we are destined to be student and teacher, to be more than that is a gift. ”

“You’re insufferable,” Din announced. He started walking again, this time faster and with greater determination. Luke pouted after him.

“I meant ‘yes,’” he said. He got no answer.

“Han proposed to Leia with a ring,” he said. “Do I get a ring?”

“No ring,” Din snapped without turning around.

“Cheapskate,” Luke called at his back. “Get me a ring.”

They returned to the school and Luke thought that that would be it. Conversation done with, alliance officially acquired. But it wasn’t.

He started to pull away to put grains and flour away in their respective cabinets and on their respective shelves when he found that he wasn’t moving forward. He leaned harder and seethed at the snickering staff who hurried past.

“Let go,” he ordered Din behind him.

“Can’t,” Din said. “You’ll flee.”

“Flee from _what_?” Luke demanded. “I’m not going anywhere. I have to teach.”

“Is that a promise?” Din asked.

Luke considered very briefly, but not at all flippantly, dumping a sack of flour over his face and armor. But that would be un-wife-ly of him and this was his life now, so he did not.

“It’s a promise,” he growled.

His cloak was relinquished.

“Please come by my ship when you are finished,” Din said. “I have something to give you.”

Psh. Luke would do what he wanted, thanks. But he’d take it under advisement.

Luke had a feeling that Grogu knew what was going on in how he didn’t try to follow Luke out to the Rust Bucket that evening.

That was suspicious. Luke was on his guard. He walked up the ramp into the ship and found the main cabin littered with all sorts of bags and boxes. Whatever Din had intended to give him, clearly he’d lost it first.

Luke picked his way around the carnage towards the sound of scraping by Din and Grogu’s sleeping quarters. He found boots sticking out of said quarters. One was untied.

Every instinct in him screamed to nab it and run, but alas, Luke would be dignified this one time. He untied the other one while Din rifled around in his sleeping quarters. It didn’t take long for the guy to notice and jerk his leg away from Luke’s grip.

The joke was on him, though. Luke was more than capable of abusing the Force for petty shit like this.

He admired the swearing.

“You said to come,” he noted while Din waged an unfair war with his shoe. “I’ve come.”

“Make it stop,” Din hissed at him.

“If you distract me, it will,” Luke said.

Din considered him, then left him callously to go back to digging through his personal affects. Luke shifted his weight back and screwed up his nose.

“Is whatever it is living?” he asked.

A hunk of silver appeared right in his face. It was somewhat familiar.

“I had it made a while back for Grogu,” Din explained as Luke accepted the pendant from his hand. “But he prefers the first I gave him. For now, this is what I can give to you as a symbol of our alliance.”

It was the head of a mudhorn about the size of Luke’s first thumb knuckle. It had a hole bored through it, through which pieces of leather had been threaded.

“You wear it on your wrist,” Din said, taking Luke’s right one.

Luke panicked, then forced himself to calm down. Firstly, he’d agreed to this. Secondly, if he played his cards right, the next five minutes would be _hilarious_.

He watched Din fumble with the bracelet for a moment before he opened his mouth to offer to help. It was too late, though. Din awkwardly hiked his helmet up just enough to bite the top finger of his right glove. He peeled it off and let the helmet fall, then went back to the task with a bare hand.

Surely that would have been peak Mandalorian romance if Luke could, you know, feel anything in that wrist he was working on.

“Can I take this off?” Din asked, picking at Luke’s glove.

You sure can, friend.

And a-one.

And a-two.

And _eject_.

**Author's Note:**

> There is one more chapter after this. FINALLY from Din's perspective ❤
> 
> Also idk how Luke's arm works but surely he can remove it at will, so I'm changing nothing.


End file.
